


Lions And Dragons Are Symbolic In A Way

by yozita



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Characters will be tagged as they apppear, Every other chapter I will be complaining about Yoshida's bad chinese names, Gen, M/M, also I wanted more insight on his relationships these are super hc heavy since we dont get much, sing-centric fic about his years working with yut lung, tagged as slash and & bcs u can see em as either
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozita/pseuds/yozita
Summary: It took Sing several tries to convince the people outside Yut Lung’s house to let him in, actually no. It took him pushing through the guards and stopping at the open door where he heard Yut Lung’s screamingSing Soo Ling's journey into adulthood with Yut Lung, and the many other people who took part in the Banana Fish crisis. The Aftermath.
Relationships: Lee Yut-Lung & Sing Soo-Ling, Lee Yut-Lung/Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 16
Kudos: 44





	1. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sing visits Yut Lung after it all, and he keeps visiting. 
> 
> **[草東沒有派對 - 情歌]**  
>  No Party For Cao Dong - Mottos, Bygones
> 
> [Stop saying: let bygones be bygones.  
> Kill the nightmares, and kill me, too. I beg you to.]

It took Sing several tries to convince the people outside Yut Lung’s house to let him in, actually no. It took him pushing through the guards and stopping at the open door where he heard Yut Lung’s screaming, the guards stopped right behind him.

“Throwing another wine-soaked tantrum?” Sing’s face hardened when he saw the spilled bottle, the glass of wine left untouched by his side. He already has an idea of what Yut Lung’s plan for the rest of the day would be.

“Hey…” Yut Lung’s furious expression morphed into a smug look when he saw Sing. He sat back on his chair, the tension left his shoulders as he effortlessly commanded the guards. “The rest of you, leave the room”

“But master Yut Lung!” The guards protested, some with such a genuine worry flashing through their eyes. Sing almost felt sick for what he was about to do. “We cannot risk leaving you alone with—”

“I said leave the room!!” Yut Lung stood up, snapping at the guards. Still the same bossy princess as he always was, Sing bitterly thought. He looked unimpressed by Yut Lung’s show of power.

“Talk about a total tyrant, they’ll slip you something one of these days.”

Yut Lung scoffed, picking up his wine glass and filling it to the brim. “Let them. I can sniff out even the smallest traces of poison. I know a lot more about that stuff than they ever will.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Want a drink?”

When he looked back at Sing, something clicked in his expression...almost as if only now he was processing Sing was here. That he had a gun pointed at him. He didn’t even seem surprised. Sing felt something bubbling deep in his chest, seeing the placid smile Yut Lung gave him.

“...Go ahead, you’re absolutely justified.” This was the calmest Sing had ever seen Yut Lung. He was a mess, uncomposed, everything felt wrong, and yet he still managed to seem serene. He already knew Yut Lung was so ready to die at any point, yet he couldn’t feel justified going through with this. He wanted to throw up seeing how content Yut Lung looked at the prospect of death, he had his eyes closed again— he was bracing himself.

“You wanna die that bad?” Sing tried to keep his voice even, he couldn’t show himself wavering in front of Yut Lung. “I heard from Blanca...about why you hate your family so much.”

Yut Lung gritted his teeth, looking down, refusing to look at Sing in the eye. “He’s got a big mouth!”

Sing put the gun down slowly.

“And hell, I understand where you’re coming from. But—”

Yut Lung finally moved, swiping at the wine glass and letting it shatter on the ground. The red liquid staining the carpets and Yut Lung’s pants. “OH, STUFF IT! Don’t presume to understand me!” He whipped his head back towards Sing, the same furious expression set on his face again. And here Sing though he managed to have a calm conversation with Yut Lung.

“JUST LISTEN TO ME, WILL YOU?!” Sing shouted back. “Look. I thought it was cool that you were taking over the Lee Syndicate. Well, maybe not _how_ you did it— but I thought that you, at least, wouldn’t screw over other Chinese like your scumbag brothers did all the time.”

Yut Lung looked away again, probably didn’t want to accept the fact he was just being like his brothers. Sing wanted to scoff, he’s not surprised, all Yut Lung has done through this conversation was throw a hissy fit, go back to acting meek, and then imploding.

“Well, Not only was I wrong about that— but the _reason_ you teamed up with that bastard Golzine and made Lao go after Eiji was JEALOUSY, of all the pathetic things!” Sing took a step closer towards Yut Lung, if he was going to get yelled at he’d just scream louder than him.

“SHUT UP!!” A distressed Yut Lung took a step back.

“LIKE HELL I’LL SHUT UP! You couldn’t stand it that Ash had someone he really trusted and cared about! It killed you that Ash found something you couldn’t have yourself… so you tried to destroy it!” Sing continued to advance towards the shell-shocked Lee heir. God this was sickening, Sing wanted to leave already. Yut Lung had no reason to be that surprised, was this actual news to him? Had Blanca failed to put any sense into this little spoiled brat? This only made Sing’s blood boil.

He didn’t expect Yut Lung to surge towards him with a heavy-handed slap. Out of reflex Sing hit back harder, angrily spitting out a ‘Same to you buddy!’. While Sing had only flinched with Yut Lung’s Slap, Yut Lung collapsed to the ground like a limp doll. Jesus, had he hit that hard? Or was Yut Lung just that fragile?

“Hey...u-uh hey, you okay?!” Sing felt his palms get sweaty, oh fuck he didn’t mean to decimate him or anything. He thought if Yut Lung could hit that hard he’d be able to handle a slap too. He bent down to Yut Lung’s level, placing a hand on his shoulder. Yut Lung gave no answer. Sing huffed. “Man, you’re just as weak and girly as you look, I thought you were more like Ash.” Strong, willful, commanding, not...this.

“Well, pardon me! So I’m not a big he-man!” Yut Lung retorted, touching his cheek and wincing. Sing had to control himself from rolling his eyes, he just stood up and looked down at Yut Lung. Seeing someone who was supposed to be a Lee...someone everyone in Chinatown feared just from the name. God, oh god he felt so sick. He had to say strong despite that, pushing the bile in his throat down. He came here for a reason.

“...Stop looking back all the time. The past is _over_.” Yut Lung still refused to say anything, avoiding eye contact like always. “And no matter how much you hate the Lees, you are one yourself, and that’s just a fact of life. Call it your fate.”

At this point, Sing could hardly believe in fate anymore.

“Whether you like it or not, you’re our leader...I can’t forgive what you did, and I never will. But the bad blood between us created an opening for the Vietnamese and the Arabs, and I guess that’s my fault as well as yours.” Sing averted his gaze from Yut Lung, he had to keep a level voice. He couldn’t waver, he couldn’t. “Chinatown’s gone to the dogs. People can’t even walk around safely in broad daylight.”

“So I can’t let you die just yet.” He could see Yut Lung turn his head, his mouth opened just slightly. Shock. “First you have to make up for what you did— ” Retribution for Shorter, for Nadia. “—By taking back Chinatown.”

Yut Lung shook his head slowly, looking just as pained as Sing felt. “I don’t have what it takes…” He spoke in such a soft way, Sing almost mistook the voice coming from a child. And he was looking at one, but he was also a child...this wasn’t fair. He was also a kid. He still doesn’t have what it takes to replace Shorter...why is he the one being the responsible one.

“Quit cursing your lot, and stop hating yourself. Cuz that doesn’t get you anywhere.” He said this as if he did any better. He cursed himself for being such a hypocrite.

Sing waited for a response, there wasn’t one. He looked at Yut Lung’s face and saw tears streaming down his face, his hair clinging onto him made him look like a banshee. What is he crying for? What’s the point of that? He never got to cry this much when Shorter died, no he had to accept the death and move on then. Because there was more going on and he couldn’t let himself mourn. Yut Lung had no one to mourn, what right did he have in crying now. Sing pushed down those thoughts. He thought back to how his own brother talked to him when he cried. When it was just him and Lao.

“What now? What’s to cry about?”

“It won’t work out as easily as you seem to think.” Yut Lung continued to cry. “Hating my brothers was my whole life so far, it’s the only thing that kept me going.”

Spite.

“If I didn’t have that…”

He would have let himself die already, an unspoken sentence between them.

“Look...you’ve avenged your mom’s death now. It’s over, so put it behind you.” Sing felt himself choke up. “And hey, in spite of everything I….I don’t hate you.”

He said it, he finally said it. Sing felt a small burden leave his shoulders. The heaviness remained.

“There’s something about you… that I just can’t hate. Cuz you’re hurt, your soul’s bleeding even now…you’re like ash that way.”

That only made Yut Lung cry harder. Sing was taken back, shit did he say something wrong? Maybe comparing him to Ash again wasn’t the right move. He was probably sick of being compared, like Sing was god he didn’t think this through enough.

“Jeez! Will you stop crying like a girl all the time?!”

“Pardon me for being exactly the way I look!” Yut Lung bitter replied, wiping away his tears now. “Weak and girly! All Right?!”

Sing rolled his eyes this time. “Why do you always have to get so defensive? You drive me nuts, I swear!”

“If I drive you nuts, just leave me alone!”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

Sing couldn’t believe this, was Yut Lung just always like this? He thought it might be just when he’s overly emotional or something but no! He’s convinced now, Yut Lung is just this bratty! The yelling had calmed down to just loudly complaining about each other. There was no hatred or anger fueling either of them, just childish banter between two teens who didn’t know how to admit that they were both scared of the future.

There was no one to guide them, they were left on their own to figure out what to do next. Hundreds, thousands of people depended on them...two kids to take charge of everything. Sing didn’t actually have to help Yut Lung, but it would help both of them. Yut Lung needed to get himself together, and Sing would be there to help. He couldn’t give up on Yut Lung, no matter how bratty, self-centered, and pitiful he made himself appear. Sing knew better than to believe that was all Yut Lung was.

He’s seen how ruthless Yut Lung could be. He’s naturally charismatic, resourceful, calculating, educated...he was also hurt, mourning, confused, lost, lonely; He's so many things.

Yut Lung ended up crying himself to sleep. He threw a huge tantrum, smashing bottles and yelling at Sing to get out now that he was finished with his little speech. Sing stayed, and waited. He couldn’t trust the guards to do anything to stop Yut Lung from doing anything stupid, he couldn’t trust Yut Lung to not do anything stupid. So he stayed, until the boy finally gave in, and (reluctantly) agreed to rest.

Sing found himself laid out at the edge of the comfy four-poster bed, his arm in an iron grip (Sing could only assume the gesture to be a silent command for him to stay), so he stayed. He was tired too. Today was just too much.

He wondered if Blanca was going to come back.

* * *

“Hey, you in there or are you moping around this time?” Sing knocked on the door to Yut Lung’s room, tapping his foot as the guards littered around the house eyed him. He couldn’t even see their eyes under those dark shades...but boy did he feel their stares.

"The doors always open”

Sing kicked open the door, poking his head in with a plastic bag in hand. Yut Lung sat in front of a vanity, braiding his hair, and already dressed up ready to go for the day. He turned towards Sing and greeted him with a small smile. He looked nothing like the person who only days ago was crying on the wine-stained carpet.

“You’re here.”

“Hello to you too your highness, gotcha food. I don’t know if you ate yet or anything, but you’re eating something with me either way.” He plopped down on the couch, opening the bag and throwing the styrofoam containers onto the coffee table. “Hope you like Nadia’s cooking, not like it’d anything like your fancy-ass chefs’ cooking but it tastes like home.”

“I’m not hungry, it’s fine.” Yut Lung got up from his seat, still standing over his vanity. The sound of opening and closing drawers echoed. “I have something to do today, I can’t just sit around and eat with you.”

“Sure you can, I’m also busy trying to clean up stragglers who keep trying to overtake my position as boss of Chinatown. Yet here I am giving you food and checking up on you.” Sing bent over, carefully slurping the soup from one of the containers. “Look man I got hot sour soup and some buns. I ain’t gonna take the shit I bought for you with me, so it's either you let your room smell like roasted pork for a couple of days or sit down and eat with me. We have some things we gotta talk about too. What kinda appointment do you have that’s making you miss a good meal?”

Yut Lung pulled out a pin from one of the drawers, tucking it into his braid. “I’m visiting Hua Lung today, it won’t take longer than an hour. If you’re so insistent I’ll eat with you then if you’re still even here, Soo Ling.”

“What are we, all buddy-buddy now? Calling me Soo Ling now? What happened to just Sing, or using my whole name.” Sing tried to move away from the topic of Hua Lung. Yut Lung probably didn’t want to go into it, neither did Sing. He never wanted to think about the absent look in Hua Lung’s eyes, or how he seemed as lost as a toddler alone at the market. It wasn’t right. Nothing about it seemed right.

Yut Lung understood, he played along.

“Shouldn’t you call me Lee Yut Lung then? I am your senior by two years.”

“Touche. I’ll wait for you then, if it’s longer than an hour I’m ditching you hear me?”

“Of course. See you soon Soo Ling.” Yut Lung fixed his tie and exited the bedroom.

Sing waited, finishing his portion quickly. He paced around the room, looking at the minimalist decor and few pictures Yut Lung had hung up. He did his best to not think too deeply about Yut Lung’s visit to Hua Lung. He tried to ignore the nagging feeling. He pretended that Hua Lung’s death was the inevitable end goal to it.

Sing Soo Ling took a nap on the couch, and when he woke up the food was cold when the little heir came back.

Yut Lung ate it anyway.

“I can microwave it for you, or just reheat on a stove. Eating in your very big dining room is an option you know?” Sing looked up at Yut Lung, his legs slung on the back of the couch. Yut Lung opened the container with the hour sour soup, sniffing it.

“I can eat the buns cold, it’s fine.”

“So you do want me to reheat the soup?”

“Sure, doesn’t make a difference either way.”

Sing wrinkled his nose. “Did you also lose your sense of taste while building up your immunity to poison or something? Soup ain’t the same if it isn’t nice and hot, the taste just isn’t there!”

“God don’t be so overdramatic, it’s just easier than going all the way to reheat something. I don’t care.”

“Hell no, I won’t let you eat Nadia’s good cooking the wrong way. I’ll heat up your damn soup for you, c’mon let’s not stink up your room. I hang out there too.” Sing twisted his body and awkwardly stumbled around as he got back onto his feet. “Bet you didn’t even eat anything on that little trip yeah?”

“I couldn’t keep anything down while in the same room as him.”

Sing nodded, he understood, so he wouldn’t say more. He couldn’t. Just like how he couldn’t bring up a lot of things with Yut Lung, not yet at least. Sing had to be patient, and stay on friendly terms with Yut Lung.

“Let’s get you a nice hot brunch to start your day then your highness.”

* * *

“What’s with your name?”

Sing looked up from his papers, giving Yut Lung a confused look. “What about my name?”

“I'm a bit skeptical about it, who names their kid something so…"

"Eccentric?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Cuz it's the name my brother gave me, he chose it and I just kept using it. Helped me separate gang life from family life. Then it became too intertwined, and now I'm Sing Soo Ling." Sing shrugged, he tried to seem nonchalant mentioning his brother, trying to hide bits and pieces of the truth.

He didn't use it to separate himself from gang life and his personal life. No, they were one and the same and always have been. Sing Soo Ling just felt like something 10-year-old him would find intimidating. It was less flowery and poetic than his birth name.

It was masculine, it made him sound tough.

But now, it felt silly, he suddenly wanted to bury the name and maybe go back to his old name. Perhaps people would take him more seriously then.

Yut Lung snickered, then it turned into muffled laughter.

"Sorry, I don't mean to laugh at why you decided to go with that name. I just thought it's kind of funny how we're both matching with funny names. A dragon and a lion demon." Yut Lung smiled a little, and that made Sing smile too. He laughed with Yut Lung, booing at his bad attempt at a joke. Sing got a pillow thrown at him and they bickered again.

This time, it was friendly. They were still smiling even after their insults and yelling at each other to finish their respective paperwork.

Sing Soo Ling was making progress with Lee Yut Lung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last edit: 4/17/20  
> \- fixing format issues  
> \- fixing typos in notes
> 
> Whew okay, I have a lot to say!   
> First, sorry for 2/3 of the fic being basically the manga's ending for Sing and Yut Lung and only 1/3 being original content but after this it's all original <3 anyway
> 
> I recently reread Banana Fish, reread Garden of Light way too many times, Flipped through a few Sing moments in Yasha and read a few chapters of that Yasah sequel before I gave up because it was wayyyy too cheesy and I was never a fan of the Yasha characters that survived anyway...but I am now very attached to Sing's son, the main character and her half brother. So mayhaps I will write about them for another fic because the dynamic between Retsu and Shin is very funny. 
> 
> I love Sing Soo Ling and he will always be my favorite character from Banana Fish, and I really just wanted a fic that could balance a focus on his relationship with Yut Lung, AND the drama surrounding two high schoolers having to run a big influential mafia. I want to see parts of Sing and Yut Lung being able to act like kids around each other, free to joke and mess around without being scrutinized for being childish. I want the raw emotional rage the two of them to bottle up and release it onto each other because they’re the only ones they have left who really GET IT. It’s messy! It’s tiresome but they have to keep trying because this is all they have now! Sing has other friends but Yut Lung doesn’t, and Sing is just that kind of guy who feels like he has to be the one to fix /everything/ he can. Hopefully, I can express all those messy emotions and the budding relationship between Sing and Yut Lung. 
> 
> A lot of the beginning will be me sort of poking around at Sing having to try and counsel Yut Lung so they can be on friendlier terms, him trying to cope with Lao and Ash's death (his false promise to Eiji at the airport), and just small mindless talks Sing and Yut Lung have. I think I'll dedicate the first two chapters to that, and then start moving on with the years. Keep in mind I'm going with the manga timeline!
> 
> Sorry if you see me glossing over some things but I personally don't feel like I could tackle certain subjects well enough, so if I have to mention anything it’ll be pretty vague... I will still go into parts of Yut Lung's issues, stuff about gender identity and Yut Lung’s whole view on traditions. Side note, you can read the name scene as Sing being trans u-u I do hc his 2018 reboot as a trans guy but I don't know how to go around talking about such a topic with the setting in the 80s so I'm keeping it as just implied and won't ever be explicitly explored in this fic. Maybe in another. 
> 
> Another Sing fun fact: I like the idea of his family coming frm Fuzhou + he’s never stated or implied he’s canto like the Lees and Wongs so I can do whatever I want. A lot of Fuzhou immigrants were coming into the US in the 70s and 80s so I think it’s fitting. He probably knows fuzhounese, picked up Cantonese and English from the neighborhood kids, forced to learn mainland Mando by Yut Lung for business reasons, and learned bits of Japanese on his own for Eiji! Stan multilingual king.
> 
> I'll sign off here! I hope you enjoy the fic and the songs I leave in every beginning note! They're what've I've been bangin' my head to while writing so you can get a vibe of what I'm working with. Please...let me know if there are any errors I don't have someone helping me proofread so there will probably be a few mistakes left over.


	2. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of many arguments, and many many thoughts that haunt Sing.  
> **dialogue in [this] means they are talking in Cantonese
> 
>  **[草東沒有派對 - 等]**  
>  No Party For Cao Dong - Await
> 
> [I’ll wait, I’ll wait, I’ll keep on waiting.  
> I’ll wait, I’ll wait, I’ll wait for nothing.  
> You’ll wait, you’ll wait, you’ll keep on waiting.  
> You’ll wait, you’ll wait, you’ll wait for nothing.
> 
> Where’s the bus I’m waiting for? Will it break down again?  
> Where’s the person I’m waiting for? Will He stand me up again?]

“You can’t keep doing this.” Sing looked down at Yut Lung face down on his plush carpets and groaning in pain. “I told you, you should try going to a rehab center or something. This ain’t good for you man.”

Yut Lung turned onto his back, squinting at Sing with bleary eyes. “Fuck you, get out.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you dude, I’m really worried—”

“Get out.”

“I’m serious, I know you’re doing it less but it’s still too frequent. It’s scary, you’re startin’ to freak me out.” Sing backed off to give Yut Lung room, not wanting to set him off even more. “You gotta seek professional help, you can’t just keep all your problems bottled up and lash out at ME when you can’t hold it in anymore!”

“Get out before I smash this against your head.” He hissed at Sing, each word was messily stringed together.

Sing stared at Yut Lung, pained at the pitiful sight. Every time, he felt like he should just leave. Maybe it was best to leave the Lee Syndicate in a mess. Sing could figure out how to fix Chinatown on his own, it was possible, but it would also take a long time. But it was better than trying to help someone who didn’t want help. Yut Lung didn’t strive to be better.

“I’ll get you some water, will ibuprofen make you feel better, _boss_?”

Sing wanted to spit at him so badly, he shouldn’t have to deal with this. He wasn’t a babysitter, he wasn’t this guy’s nanny! Fuck he shouldn’t have bothered, he really shouldn’t have. He was trying, Sing really was trying to keep his temper under wraps when Yut Lung was like this. In the past, he’d probably make fun of Yut Lung and bombard him with snide remarks. Back then he didn’t listen to any rich pansy who refused any kind of aid, Sing did things his own way; Sing did things that helped his community and kept his people safe.

But he can’t just do things his way anymore, because he had to actually get Yut Lung back onto his feet. It was the right thing to do then, and Sing doesn’t half-ass things. He had to see things through.

Sing really _was_ progressing really well with Yut Lung, it was going alright for the first few weeks. Yut Lung was actually helping Sing with cleaning Chinatown’s streets and they were even filing paperwork for Sing to go back to school after the cleanup. Yut Lung was surprisingly supportive, in his own harsh ways. Yut Lung’s nagging reminded Sing of the tiger moms his old friends would always complain to him about.

“My mom is incredibly ruthless, but I know she’s just trying to show care in her own way”, they repeated the same phrase every time Sing asked them about the red mark on their body. Someone those boys couldn’t bring themselves to truly hate, but couldn’t completely understand the love shown. (Some told Sing there was no love or care in the words their mother spit at them, the mother yelled and screamed at them just because she could).

Sing grew to enjoy Yut Lung’s company when he was sober, but he never knew what to do with Yut Lung when he was like this. Plenty of guys had a drinking problem in his gang, and he couldn’t get to all of them. But Sing did try, he tries, he tries so hard. He isn’t responsible for everyone though. He has to remind himself that constantly.

So what’s the point of sticking his nose into where it doesn’t belong. Yut Lung can figure it out for himself if he wants to. Sing doesn’t have to baby him like this.

He isn’t though, Sing pursed his lips, he was just trying to be a friend. Sing was just trying to make sure Yut Lung could get his life back together. Yut Lung _has_ to get his life back together so they can get Chinatown back together. So they can get the Lee Syndicate back together, back to normal, and not fractured.

Yut Lung has to be responsible and take back his life so he doesn’t end up dead in his own room because of alcohol poisoning.

Yut Lung’s failing kidney would be what will kill him before any kind of assassin or poison gets close to him.

“Leave.” Yut Lung repeated, softly. He didn’t even answer Sing, he wouldn’t look at him. “Just leave, I want you gone, I don’t want to look at you.”

Sing took a deep breath, contemplated whether or not he should waste more energy trying to talk it out with Yut Lung, and decided he wouldn’t tire himself out this early into his day. It’d just be another repeat of these kinds of days. There was no reasoning with Yut Lung, he was the boss, his words were final after all.

Sing’s words, the things he tried to do to make Yut Lung’s life easier, the amount of care he showed would never be enough for Yut Lung. Asking him to put his past himself, to shove down his trauma, his anger, his regret, his malice, and bitterness wouldn’t work. Even Sing struggled to accept the that fact _he_ wasn’t responsible for Lao’s actions, and that he wasn’t a liar (his promise to Eiji...he never thought it would happen).

“Okay,” Sing shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you later then, boss.”

Sing still went to the kitchen and left a glass of water and ibuprofen on the table. Then he left, and sat on his motorcycle, the ignition system left running. Sing stared off into space, his hands slackened on the handles. Where did he go now? He could go back to Nadia, the old room he used to share with Lao, Cain had told him before they split off he was welcomed to visit his place as long as he called before but— Sing ruffled his hair, stamping his foot on the ground as he grew more indecisive. The hell with it. 

He revved up his motorcycle and rode off. He didn’t have a destination in mind, he just kept driving further and further away from the Lee estate. He just knew he needed to get away, just for a while, it would be nice without Lee Yut Lung on his mind for once.

Every part of New York just served to remind Sing of his own failings and mistakes. Lee Yut Lung may have finally left his thoughts, but it only allowed himself to dwell deeply on other things he didn’t want to think about.

Sing made a stop by Manhattan Bridge, close enough he could see the ocean, pier 36 barely peeking through in the distance.

He made a call to Cain. Sing didn’t feel like seeing anybody, but he wanted to talk to someone. Cain was a busy man, it was rare they ever got to talk anymore, with Sing fixing up Chinatown and Cain getting Black Sabbath settled down again after the Banana Fish situation.

It seemed Cain meant it when he said they should keep in contact, he had given Sing his phone number and other means of contacting him if he couldn’t go to Harlem for an in-person visit. The gesture meant a lot to Sing at the time, the only people in his life he could consider close were the people in his gang. At the time, he never had to bother with connections. They always thought Shorter… Shorter would be around longer than this. Sing never thought he would be the one to stand up as the next boss.

Connections were something he desperately needed now. So Sing called, holding his old hand-me-down flip phone to his ear, waiting for the other boss to pick up.

 _click_.

“Hey man, good to see you finally call but you’re catching me at a real bad time.”

Sing could hear loud banging and shouts on the other end, he held his phone further from his ear, wincing as something like an explosion shook his eardrums. Christ, what was happening at this time of hour?

“Callback?”

“Yeah sorry little man, I’ll try to get back to you if it’s anything important you gotta say.”

“Nah, it wasn’t anything big. Just kinda fucked up after not talking to people outside of Yut Lung. I’ll catch you later when you aren’t getting messed up.”

“Oh fuck you, we ain’t getting messed up. It’s more like the other way around, you aren’t doubting my strength now are you?”

“Pft, I’d never Cain, you go do your thing. Don’t go fucking around with dynamite, or whatever the hell you’re doing there.” Sing hung up, sitting back on his motorcycle with a defeated sigh. Even in a conversation with Cain, his palms felt sweaty, it was nerve-wracking. He was a leader now, Chinatown’s boss, he had to reform Chinatown, reform his gang, reform the Lee Syndicate, he was a leader now...yet here he was throwing a tantrum just like the Lee heir.

* * *

When Sing got back to the Lee estate, he found Yut Lung draped on the couch in his parlor rather than in his room shit-faced laying in a puddle of his vomit.

He asked the nearby guards if he sobered up, none could give Sing a straight answer. Whether it was to preserve their young master’s pride or some stupid little reason that Sing couldn’t figure out, he’d know when Yut Lung woke up. What was the point of hiding it?

Sing huffed, placing his helmet on the table before pulling Yut Lung off from the couch. He did his best shifting Yut Lung onto his back, carrying the older boy back to his room. Sing could feel Yut Lung’s breath on his neck, it was uncomfortable. It made the hair on his back stand, and his neck went cold every couple of seconds.

He threw Yut Lung off his back onto the bed, rolling his shoulders and wincing as he heard a loud _pop_ sound. Sing’s knees dropped at the bedside, laying his head on the mattress with a heavy sigh. It hasn’t even been a few hours and it felt like an entire day has passed. He hasn’t done anything significant today, yet he feels so very tired. If his eyes would just close...he could probably sleep for fifteen hours. It wasn’t even a few hours and he was back to looking over Yut Lung.

He was pathetic, he was so, so very pathetic. Sing propped his head up, looking at his boss— no not boss, his partner— in disdain. No matter how much he wants to let Yut Lung destroy himself and face the consequences alone, Sing couldn’t do it. It felt like a show of weakness, but it was something he felt like...Shorter would agree with. They were the only ones who could understand this kind of burden, something Sing had thought of before but only started realizing how true it was. He hated the idea of them being two kids having to work with each other to even be taken seriously.

He hated that he was starting to share the same ideologies as Shorter, the very same that he wanted to destroy. The traditional views the older boy held on like it was his lifeline, it was the antithesis of everything Sing stood for. Obligation to this and that, obligation to those older than him, obligations to family, obligations, obligations, and more obligations. Things they didn’t need to do but were so ingrained in their heads that they just _should_.

Shorter’s downfall was because of these obligations he _needed_ to follow.

That didn’t mean Sing hated his culture or anything, how could he? He grew up being taught all that nonsense, he’s familiar with it, he understands all the reasons these ‘rules’ exist. But there were obviously many aspects he could not agree with. Respecting people because of their seniority was a big one.

Sing huffed as he rolled Yut Lung onto his sides. Pillows and a blanket lined up by Yut Lung’s back, in case the idiot decided to choke on his vomit. Sing left the room to get a glass of water and yet _another_ ibuprofen pill.

(He really needed to check if it was okay to give the guy so many of those pills in a day, but maybe if he just quit drinking after taking the med… Sing stopped thinking about it, this was already turning into a massive headache)

When Sing returned to the room, Yut Lung was still out cold, making noises in his sleep and even grinding his teeth. Placing the pill and glass of water on the nightstand, Sing took a seat on a nearby plush chair, sinking into it. He glanced at his partner for a brief moment, before sighing heavily. Perhaps, it was time to take drastic measures, if he had to force the older boy into rehab, then he would just have to. It didn’t feel like there was any other way. He can’t just let this tyrant keep having his way, he was basically committing slow suicide at this point!

The boy let out a frustrated groan, sinking further into the chair. He started considering all the consequences: Yut Lung could lose trust in him, and Sing worked _hard_ just getting closer to him. He could start hating Sing, even more, get Sing assassinated in a fit of drunkenness, there were so many possibilities. But Yut Lung would definitely hate Sing for forcing him to do _anything_ even if it was for his own good.

People don’t get better just because you push them into it, they have to try and be willing to. Lee Yut Lung certainly wasn’t willing in any way, he didn’t trust or believe in rehab apparently. It frustrated Sing beyond belief, he didn’t even want to think about it. But here it comes again: he _has_ to since no one else will.

Everyone in the stupid manor was just so incompetent, that they couldn’t help their own young master. Or maybe it was on purpose, then Sing would consider it a pretty smart ploy. Letting their young master slowly kill himself like this. It didn’t make much sense in the long run, because they were all paid well. Perhaps the pay just wasn’t worth the trouble that was Yut Lung. (He’d completely understand...but it still angered him to no ends how no one bothered to help this idiot.

His thoughts were disrupted as a particularly unnerving mix between a groan and a whine came from Yut Lung. The grinding sound only became louder, more discomforting to hear. He wasn’t sure if the amount of noise Yut Lung made in his sleep was normal. Sing began to move from his chair to keep Yut Lung on his sides, as the other boy began to twist and turn in his sleep, thrashing violently. Tears even began to stream down his face, something Sing has never witnessed someone do in their sleep. What could he be dreaming of? What was so frightening that Yut Lung would react so violently?

(Sing didn’t want to know, there were so many answers to that question.)

He didn’t know how else to calm Yut Lung down, so Sing began to shake him awake instead. Hoping that waking Yut Lung would bring an end to whatever nightmare he was experiencing. This only made the thrashing worse, Yut Lung gasped for air like he was choking, springing up from the bed and swinging wildly. Sing cursed as he was backhanded in the midst of the struggle, backing away as the young Lee came to his senses.

The boy looked shaken, shifting his eyes left and right before staring at Sing. “[What is it? What do you want from me this time? Isn’t it enough, isn’t this...isn’t this enough already.]” He choked back a sob, Sing didn’t understand a thing. His Cantonese was good, sure, but he didn’t understand it when it was slurred, masked with hiccups and sniffles. Sing stared back, unblinking, Yut Lung’s eyes didn’t seem to even be focusing on him.

It was like he was looking right through Sing, he didn’t even see the boy.

Just who was he talking to, what was he seeing, ghosts of the dead? Those he indirectly killed because of his petty jealousy? Those he killed with his own tricks and poisons for his brothers? Perhaps, it _was_ his brothers he was seeing. The ones he (had) killed.

“[Yut Lung, look at me, _look at me_.]” Sing slowly approached Yut Lung, placing his hands on the other's shoulders, trying to ground him. Hands grasped his wrists, the sporadic breathing didn’t get any better, but at least he got his focus. That was a good start for Sing. “[Hey, hey c’mon look at me. It’s okay, I’m here, I’m not gonna hurt you okay. Breathe, take a deep breath, like me.]”

He slowed his breathing, taking deep breaths, counting 1...2...3...4… and gesturing to Yut Lung to follow along. Yut Lung seemed reluctant, but his breathing was becoming more shallow as he listened to Sing. The shaking was still bad, and Sing didn’t know how to fix that. Nadia used to hu him when his brother yelled at him, it’d stop him from trembling after his crying. But was he the right person to comfort Yut Lung like that? Well, he’d never know unless he tried.

“[Do you want a hug, yeah actually I’m not going to bother to ask you’re getting a hug, c’mere.]” Sing moved his hands to go over Yut Lung’s shoulders, practically cradling the older boy in his arms. He moved back and forth, making the same humming sounds Shorter would do for the younger kids in the gang. “[It’s okay, it’s okay, can you drink some water first though boss, don’t want you throwing up on me and all.]”

While he couldn’t see the other’s reaction, he could feel Yut Lung shaking his head. Sing sighed, he really shouldn’t ask so much anymore, Yut Lung was always going to be a stubborn bastard. “[Let me rephrase, you _are_ going to take a pill, drink some water, and then we’re going to the bathroom so you can puke your guts out if you’re feeling nauseous.]”

Sing let go of Yut Lung to get the glass and pill from the nightstand, shoving the pill into Yut Lung’s mouth and bringing the glass to his lips. Despite the bastard’s attempts of denying the pill and water, Sing managed to get him to swallow the pill and drink a quarter of the water with only some water spilling on the bed. Pretty good progress if he had to say so himself.

Yut Lung groaned, moving closer to the edge of the bed— aw shit, Sing rushed to grab those weird ice bucket things Yut Lung used to put ice, holding it under Yut Lung as he began to vomit. When he finished, he moved away from the edge of the bed, and shifted back under his bed covers, rolling away from Sing’s view.

At least he was on his sides and comfortable under blankets this time. Sing sighed, tossing the Bucket into the little bathroom on the side of Yut Lung’s room. The maids could deal with that, he was already babying the guy enough he wasn’t going to start throwing out the trash too.

Sing sat back down on the chair, glancing at the open laptop on Yut Lung’s coffee table. Perhaps, he should do some research, learn what else he could do to keep the older boy sober for longer. Start small, and slow, because sudden change like Sing wanted, wouldn’t happen so easily with Yut Lung’s predicament that was for sure.

But Change still needed to happen, and Sing wasn’t that patient. They needed a plan to get Yut Lung back on track unless Yut Lung wanted to up and make Sing his next heir. Then letting the boy die would be no problem now that Sing had control of everything he needed.

That path would be lonely though...and Sing, surprisingly preferred working with someone like Yut Lung, when he’s sober. People these days just aren’t as snarky and fun to hang out with. Then again the people he interacts with, are usually older than eighteen and are busy with their own lives.

Sing had some people, barely anyone. Yut Lung had no one. They could have each other at the very least, two kids in a big world, trying to wear shoes too big to fit, who could understand each other.

That’s wishful thinking though, Sing doesn’t know if such a wish would come true, but he sincerely hoped there would be a day he and Yut Lung could truly be proper partners. Not whatever this was, a poor charade at Boss and Subordinate slash Nanny.

It really is a shame, he couldn’t be as optimistic as Shorter was most of the time.

Sing really couldn’t think of any good way to help Yut Lung...but if he couldn’t help...oh no. The little boy looked down at his hands, as tears began to well up in his eyes. What could he do, what was there to do.

Suddenly, everything crashed down on him.

Sing Soo Ling, was just a sixteen-year-old boy, with the weight of the entirety of New York’s Chinatown, and even more, resting on his shoulder. With an eighteen-year-old possible alcoholic who refused to be a better him, in his care.

He had no one to turn to.

For the first time in months, he felt completely, and utterly alone in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY AGAIN LONG THOUGHTS BCS I PUT _TOO_ MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS FIC. 
> 
> I actually FORGOT what I was writing because I would only edit what I already wrote every two months and it was like over six months since i started writing this chapter so I completely forgot where I was trying to go with this chapter. All I learned was that, I am incredibly Not suited to tackle Yut Lung's heavier issues and Sing's views on traditionalism w chinese culture is very "me projecting MY feelings on it". 
> 
> I had to cut out and change SO many things too, that I almost lost motivation to write this but I really wanted to at least get to GOL and then maybe call it quits, change the summary a little. There was originally a section where Sing reminisces about shitty romance cnovels that Shorter would read, and I had to cut that out bcs while I'd like to think post-BF Sing is a bit more nostalgic n wishing fr what used to be...I don't think he'd think about the past THAT much. I was on THIN ice for myself when writing a lot of the moments in this chapter. 
> 
> N that's probably an issue with my writing I have to find a way around, bcs I tend to make my pov characters wayyyy too nostalgic or thoughtful bcs thats how MY brain works so its weird when you have to do something else for it. Sing doesn't even strike me as the kind of guy who has a voice in his head that monologues or anything, yknow how they say our concious differs from person to person? Sing seems like the kind of person who visualizes, but at the time of writing the first chapter I didn't know how to implement that so...fuck it yknow? Go with what feels right! 
> 
> I just also decided to take this fic slowly whenever I had banana fish on my mind. My fandoms change constantly but they do tend to cycle around, it'd suck if I updated only like every 6 months though... next chapter we're going into a few months or years later B) Sing starts school


	3. Step One, Act One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running around, and talking with family and old friends...maybe he should have stayed back.  
> **dialogue in [this] means they are talking in Cantonese  
> //if I should tag anything let me know
> 
>  **[Penelope Scott - Lavender]**  
>  I'm trying my best  
> Giving my all  
> And yeah it turns out that's not very much at all  
> It turns out that's not very much at all

It was just another one of those run of the mill days where Yut Lung wasn’t in the best moods, and there wasn’t anything urgent for Sing to get to. Sing would avoid the manor, take walks around New York, catch up with old friends if they were free, or dive into doing more work if there weren't any other open options. 

However, today he was indecisive. Pacing around Riverfront Park while going through all the people he knew in his head. One by one, names were crossed out in his head. It didn't feel reasonable visiting any of them, there was nothing to talk about, it felt unnecessary to bother them. He could relax today, focus on himself for once. Perhaps he’d just go on a run, let brief exercise distract him until he found a purpose to do anything.

Sing suddenly stopped in his tracks. There were two very familiar figures, with two other figures who were _not_ supposed to be here. Sing almost wanted to scream. In frustration, anger, confusion, something to let out whatever was stirring under his skin, it didn’t matter. Anything that would give him the answer to why Eiji Okumaru was back in America with his hands buried in his face as that older Japanese guy, Alex, Kong, and Bones were gathered around him with their heads lowered as if _grieving_ at a funeral. 

That guy was supposed to be back in Japan, probably still healing from his injuries, mostly safe, and ignorant to Ash’s death. He was supposed to be in Japan, he shouldn’t be in America, in New York. Eiji shouldn’t be here, in any way, shape or form. He shouldn’t even be crying for God’s sake. 

Yet here he was just a block away from Sing, and the only thing hiding him was a couple of trees. He felt wrong even being near Eiji, he couldn’t be here. He had to get away, leave, go anywhere but near Eiji. If luck was a kind mistress she’d make sure no one in that little group saw him running off. He didn’t turn back, he didn’t even want to consider that maybe Alex caught a glimpse of him, or that Eiji finally looked up and the first thing he saw was a familiar boy running far, far away from him. 

If luck was on his side, they wouldn’t even realize he was Sing Soo Ling. He was just some Asian kid, running in the park. Not Sing Soo Ling, running away from confronting the lie he told, the mistake of giving Eiji false hope, his hand in securing Ash’s death. 

The moment Sing got back onto his bike, his first instinct was to go back to Yut Lung, say nothing but ask to stay. Just for the rest of the day, and in the morning, he’d be out of the manor.

Yut Lung didn’t ask what was wrong. Didn’t ask why Sing’s hand shook when he slammed the door open to Yut Lung’s room. Just threw a towel and pair of clothes at him, making a scathing remark about stinking and needing a shower instead. 

Sing robotically walked into the bathroom, the door shutting as he leaned against it still breathing shakily. He closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths, willing his worries and guilt away. 

He couldn’t focus on these things. Keep it together. Don’t have a freakout. Only one of them could have those and it couldn't be Sing. But the only thing Sing could think about was how thin Eiji looked compared to the other three at his side. 

Sing scrambled to the toilet, gripping the edge of the bowl. He heaved heavily as he felt the image of Eiji seared into his mind. No matter what he did, he couldn’t feel himself retching. Bile climbed up his throat but it wouldn’t leave his body.

He was sick. He felt sick. 

Sing stayed slumped over the toilet for so long, even Yut Lung managed to force his way into the bathroom after only hearing erratic breathing and no water running. Yut Lung had to get a servant to clean up Sing and forced him to stay bedridden for the rest of the day. He stood next to Sing, taking the moist towel off the boy’s head. Sing could only look up, bleary-eyed and miserable. 

Oh, that was right, it was one of those bad days. He shouldn’t have come to the manor. "Whatever’s wrong, get yourself together. You aren’t allowed to be sick, especially now.” Yut Lung bit out, slapping a freshly moistened towel back on Sing’s forehead. All he could do was nod, and watch as the young master left with a huff. 

He didn’t ask what was wrong. 

Sing never felt so thankful towards the other boy until now. 

* * *

When Sing returned from Chinatown, he found Yut Lung staring into a mirror, eyes glassy again. It seemed to happen more and more often. Sing didn’t know what to do about it. He just couldn’t pinpoint the exact issue. 

There were just too many he could count off the top of his head, and Sing didn’t have the energy to give Yut Lung any form of comfort that seemed genuine. Sing was exhausted, with so much on his plate, he was always holding himself back from snapping at Yut Lung, who only just started to recover from recent alcohol poisoning. 

So, their interactions became distant. Sing came by once in a while when he needed to, dropping off documents for Yut Lung. Sometimes Yut Lung called, voice tense and held back, asking Sing about any new changes in Chinatown. Every once in a while, when Sing has a free day, he’d drop by some of Nadia’s food for Yut Lung, stay for a few minutes if the boy was sober, and leave to do his own things. 

It was mundane, but it was everything Sing could ask for. Especially after Ash Lynx’s death, when things were still all over the place. Now things seemed to be looking up, slowly but surely the pieces to the puzzle were fitting together. 

Sing knocked on the side of Yut Lung’s door, waiting for him to respond before entering. 

“Sing,” Yut Lung spoke softly, eyes still glued on the mirror. “Do you think that…” 

He trailed off, blinking owlishly at the mirror, sentence left unfinished. What he wanted to say, Sing would never know, he didn’t dig deeper into it. He didn’t want to know, he just came to do what he usually did: dropping off reports, before leaving to go home and finally nap. 

“Get some rest, try not to do anything stupid so you can get to your morning meeting ya hear?” He didn’t approach Yut Lung any further, turning away after he threw the files onto the coffee table. “G’night Yut Lung.”

Yut Lung turned around, staring at the door where Sing had stood just seconds before, mouth gaping at the empty doorway. A response was just on the tip of his tongue. Yut Lung scowled, and swallowed the question, looking back into the mirror. 

He missed his chance again. 

* * *

“Happy birthday.” 

“Huh?” Sing double backed, looking at Yut Lung with a baffled look. It was genuine confusion, because Sing didn’t catch a lick of what he just said. Plus, Yut Lung rarely just _said_ things out of the blue like that during these drop off visits Sing made. “Come again?” 

Yut Lung rolled his eyes, taking a red envelope out from a pocket, holding it out to Sing. “I said, happy birthday, and I won’t repeat myself for the third time.” 

This was unexpected, incredibly weird too. Sing swiped the envelope from Yut Lung’s hands, taking it with only one hand just to add some insult to the gesture. He flipped it front and back before glancing back at Yut Lung. “What are you, my auntie? You’re givin’ me red envelopes on my birthday? What’s next, new years? You’re barely older than me, what's the deal?” 

“It’s called being _polite_ and _courteous_ Soo Ling, you can give me back my money if you want to be so annoying about my gift.” Yut Lung grabbed at the envelope, rising from his chair with flushed cheeks. 

Sing jumped back, holding the red envelope close to his chest, grinning smugly. “Ehhh!? I never said I didn’t want it! You’re the one being annoying, can’t a guy just ask questions anymore?” He slipped the red envelope into his pants, knowing Yut Lung wouldn’t even try to bother him further if it was there. Heh, as if he’d pass up on taking free money from a Lee! 

It was just...weird and out of character for Yut Lung to give him something, birthday or not. At least it felt weird to Sing, even celebrating with close friends and family, he didn’t get red envelopes. Just a good meal, and a happy day where they could try and ignore everything terrible around them for a moment. 

So for Yut Lung of all people to give him a gift, it was jarring. Who could blame Sing for having the lasting impression that Yut Lung was far too self-centered and selfish to even _remember_ his birthday? He doesn’t even recall having ever shared his birthday with Yut Lung. How’d the guy know it was today? 

“It’s just… I wanted to show some appreciation to you.” Yut Lung huffed, sitting back down.“I don’t know! Isn’t this the kind of stuff you like, I just thought… maybe you’d be happy if I gave you something today. Obviously, you aren’t b—”

“Who said I wasn't happy huh? I like your gift plenty, maybe I’ll go save it for something or buy myself a cool new skateboard. I was just askin’ about a lil thing. Don’t get yourself all heated cuz I wasn’t jumping in joy or something you drama queen.” 

“I’m not getting heated!” Yut Lung looked like he was on his way to throw another one of his fits, but took a deep breath and pursed his lips together. “Anyways, I have more to say if you’re done mocking me.” 

“I wasn’t even mocking you!” 

“Are you going to let me finish Soo Ling?” 

Sing rolled his eyes but gestured for Yut Lung to continue. 

“What I was trying to say before you decided to be cheeky, I was thinking about getting you a place between the manor and Chinatown. So it’ll be convenient for you to be able to travel back and forth. From what I’ve heard you don’t have a permanent residence at the moment so…” Yut Lung spoke with his head turned away from Sing. “It could just be a studio, or an apartment if you think you’ll need that kind of space. It’s just a consideration. Knowing you, you’d rather stay homeless than accept something like that from me.” 

The younger boy reacted with a halfhearted shrug. “It ain’t a bad idea, I’d probably say yes but I don’t see the reason for you to drop money on me for something like a permanent place to stay. I barely stay in one place now, I don’t think I can keep up a place of my own. It’d turn into a pigsty in a flash.” He shook his red envelope. “Plus, I got enough money from you to keep me going in terms of food ‘n residence. Nadia lets me crash at her place sometimes too.” 

Yut Lung stiffened when Nadia was mentioned, but he quickly recovered and just scoffed. He turned back to face Sing. “When we’re finished with this, what about then?” 

“Gotta be a bit more specific, cuz we got a lotta things to finish.” 

“Cleaning up Chinatown, returning it to some semblance of order. We still have plans for you to return to school eventually. When you do, you’ll need a place to stay.” Sing’s eyes widened when he heard school mentioned. Yut Lung casually talked about him returning to school nonchalantly, as if it was something he was going to do no matter what. Since when was that ever a part of their deal. They never discussed this!

“School?! Since when was— now hold on can’t I just stay with you, I’m probably gonna bother you to tutor me already so I can just sleep on the floor here or—”

“Like hell you’re staying here! This is _my_ house and as much as I appreciate your company _sometimes_ , I’d rather not have to share it with you.” 

Sing groaned. “What! I already basically live here! I’m saving you money, at least act like you appreciate it! I could’ve said ‘Yeah sure get me a place, but I want a huge house just like yours.’ Would you actually buy me a huge house huh?” 

“Soo Ling, I will say this as nicely as I can. This manor is miserable, living here is suffocating, and I hate it. But I am far too sentimental to sell it off and live somewhere else, so I’m stuck here. I don’t want to be in this miserable house with you here as well. I’d much rather prefer you get a place you can actually call home, and go back to.” Yut Lung pointedly replied, each word punctuated by a stabbing motion 

There was an awkward pause as Sing digested all that. Obviously, to Sing, Yut Lung was trying to be genuine, and this was his way of doing so. Surprisingly enough, this was one of the few days he was just being nice to Sing, no strings attached. But, Sing didn’t want a house, at least not one where he’d be alone. He’d be just as miserable living with Yut Lung and his huge manor full of useless servants. There was no ‘home’ to return to if there was no one to return to as well. 

Sing didn’t exactly have a place like that anymore, not anywhere he felt like was right to return to, at least. 

“I’ll let ya know if I need a place, I’m fine for now. I don’t need a place like that, too busy goin’ around to be sleeping in one place anyway,.” Sing finally responded, looking down at his clenched fists. “That’s fine yeah?” 

Yut Lung nodded, seeming relieved that they reached a middle ground. “With that out of the way, do you have...any plans for today?” 

"Nah, I was just gonna go home and take the chance to sleep in. You got something in mind?" 

"...No, don't worry about it. Take your day off Soo Ling. I'll see you soon." 

“Hmph, alright whatever you say your majesty, we’re gonna go back to talkin’ about the whole going back to school thing _later_. Don’t think I forgot!” 

“Goodbye Sing.” Yut Lung emphasized 

Sing wanted to tell Yut Lung to just spit it out, but today was a rare chance to actually rest during the hectic reorganizing. So he took the chance of peaceful slumber, and left, wondering what the young master had in mind. 

* * *

Sing loved to visit Nadia, but it was a double-edged sword. It always was. 

Ever since Shorter’s death, there was something that never seemed right when he talked to her. She seemed to have moved on, accepted her brother who she helped raise, who had passed on a violent death. That there was nothing she could’ve done to save him. 

Sing never felt like that was true though. There was still a mournful look in her eyes every time she talked to him. He could never tell if it was pity, or her trying to show she was empathetic to his own loss. 

She lost a younger brother. 

He lost an older brother. 

But he already accepted Lao Yan Tai was dead, and it was time for him to move on so he can do the same things his brother originally sought. Not whatever Yut Lung ended up twisting his ideals into. 

Shorter’s death felt like forever ago to Sing now, since he’s been doing everything Shorter once did for over a year now. It was easy to get caught up in everything and feel like time has accelerated. To Nadia, it was probably still fresh on her mind. He understood, and let her mourn at her own pace. It was beginning to bother him though, those looks she gave him whenever they talked.

Nadia gave him his change, calling back to the kitchen to one of the new chefs that she hired off from Sing’s gang. Sing offered a cheery ‘hey man!’ and a wave towards a familiar face as well. The cook leaned out from the kitchen pass-through, greeting Sing eagerly. They didn’t get much of a conversation, as he quickly slipped back into the kitchen before Nadia could chide him. 

“Has he been helping you around enough? I know he’s a bit of a ditz but his cooking is...well, it ain’t your cooking but it’s almost on par.” Sing grinned. “I still owe it to ya helping’ _me_ out with getting the guy a job, he’s been tryin’ real hard to do the whole ‘making honest money with your own hard work’. Not many places are willing to take him on and all.” 

“He has, he’s an earnest man. I’m thankful you convinced me to get another hand on board. Charlie was right about me overworking myself… it’s pleasant having someone around when rush hours are over. I’ve been getting too comfortable with being alone here.” Nadia gestured to the restaurant. “If anyone else needs a job though, let them know we do need more dishwashers. I can’t pay much...but it is something.” 

“You’d have an easier time using your guy’s money to pay for your restaurant's stuff y'know, bet he’s rolling in cash.” 

“Sing, you know I can’t do that This is my own hard work. I’m not going to get help from Charlie. I’ve been doing so well for so long, why should I change how I do things now?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah I hear you Nadia, I’m just saying.” 

“I know you mean well. Look at you being all grown up and even worrying about me,” She gave Sing a small smile, ruffling his hair. Sing gently swatted her hand away after she started her awful neck messages that felt more like a painful pinch on his neck. He grumbled as she giggled at his reaction.

“Yeah n’ all you do to repay me is by pinchin’ me like those[grandmas] at the park.” Sing grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“All out of love,” Nadia said, taking the boxed meals that just came out from the pass-through and bagging it for Sing. She handed him the bag, reminding him to be careful of the bottom and of the soup. “I’m also concerned about you Sing.”

He froze when she started talking about concerns. He could feel a mini lecture already coming up. Sing braced himself for the hour long tangent he’d have to sit through about the same thing he’s heard all his older ex-members would give, the old people who were previously tangled in the same gang business he was, the older sisters who treated Sing and his brother well in their childhood— the usual spiel. He placed his take-out down on the counter, waiting for Nadia to continue. 

“I know you must hear this a lot, I know you do, but I have to know. Are you taking care of yourself alright...you’ve gotten so much skinnier. I haven’t even realized this until a while ago, but are you staying with anyone?” Nadia’s previous calm shed away to a more frazzled state. She frowned at Sing’s uneasy shrug. 

“I mean, I’m eatin’, I just skip a meal or two sometimes cause I get caught up in something. I’m not starving so that’s good enough yeah? I don’t have a permanent place yet, it’s too troublesome y’know so I just move around and stay wherever I need to stay. Yut Lung’s cool enough to help me pay for hotels if I can’t crash with a bud.” 

“Well you’re doing better than I imagined at least.” Nadia placed a hand over her heart. “Do you want me to keep... _his_ corner untouched for now then? Until you find a permanent residence?” 

His corner, Sing knew she meant Lao’s. The brothers frequently stuck around Shorter and Nadia when they were younger, especially after Lao joined Shorter’s gang. Nadia was kind enough to allow many of Chinatown’s street kids to stay over, taking the living room or the small extra room they had. They were both regulars who basically lived with the Wong siblings at that point, so Nadia eventually moved their things into the room that Nadia and Shorter shared. Away from the publicly shared room that they previously held residence of. 

He completely forgot that he left some of his belongings at Nadia’s to be honest. He’d been so tunnel vision about cleaning up Chinatown, fixing the Lee Syndicate, and making sure Yut Lung didn’t fall into another pit of self loathing…there was never a point in time for him to worry about it. 

“You know...we still have your rooms upstairs if you ever need it.” There was a pregnant pause, silence washing over the two of them. Only the sound of a sizzling stove and a pan being scrapped by the chef in the back. Nadia hesitated to continue, her hands lowered to stack upon each other. She began slowly. “I hope I can be home for you, Sing. I’ll always be here for you too. You and Lao were family to me, like everyone else in your gang. Do remember that.”

“I’ll.... keep that in mind, thanks Nadia. I’ll be sure to take our stuff from your hands, I’m sure it’s been a mess to have to keep 'em all there. I’m really sorry about that.” Sing sheepishly replied. The conversation was a lot better than he anticipated, _and_ way shorter. He always got the ‘be more careful’ and ‘remember to do basic things to not die!’ talks, but it was nice to have someone remind him he still had family around. Blood related or not, they were people he could always seek out for comfort and reassurance too. 

Nadia let out a relieved sigh. “It’s not a big deal Sing, just please remember to care about yourself too. It’s painful seeing you look so haggard, you’re too young to have those kinds of dark eye circles. You know you can always go and get your things whenever the door is open for you.” 

“It’s fine, seriously. I’ll try to get some more sleep in, I swear. Thanks for the food again, and everything else, you’re the best Nadia.” He picked up his take-out bag, and bid Nadia goodbye with a small salute. Then, he ran off to have lunch with Yut Lung. 

* * *

Passing by acquaintances and seeing friends on the street wasn’t abnormal with how much Sing ran around New York these days and doing his fair share of work on Chinatown and the Lee Syndicate. What _was_ rare was running into Cain, alone. The man always had a buddy or two by him, especially when he was out and about. Sing never bothered them, just exchanging a quick “hey”, “good seeing you”, “heya-seeya” , since both of them were doing their own things. There wasn’t time for pleasantry, it wasn’t a great look on either of them if they mingled too much. 

“Lil’ man what are you doin’ sitting there looking all bummed out, girlfriend dump ya?” 

Sing whipped his head around so quickly he felt like he got whiplash. He blinked a few times, before sitting up on his bike with a wide grin. “Cain! What the hell are you doin’ all the way down here? You’re far from Harlem man.”

“Can’t a guy just drive around town?” Cain had his window rolled down, one hand rested on the edge of the car door and the other on the steering wheel. “Hey, are you free right now, in the mood for a bit of driving. You sure look like you could use it. C’mon, we can even talk a bit.” 

Being invited by Cain to take a ride and hang out under one of the many highways on a weekend? Today seemed to be a special day. Lady Luck must be smiling down at Sing right now. 

He, of course, accepted the invitation. A laidback day hanging out with one of his few remaining friends he actually kept in contact with sounded _amazing_ after all the work he’s been putting into keeping the other Chinatown gangs in their place. 

It was a treat to himself.

Cain had Sing follow him onto the highway, making a turn to a little hidden area under one of the bridges. Sing’s bike leaned on one of the support pillars, while Cain’s car was parked in the corner. Both of them leaned on the concrete wall between the support pillars. 

They began with small talk, things they usually don’t get the chance to ask each other. What were they up to outside of their positions as a boss, what were some new places they might’ve been to, stupid things they saw over the past couple of months. The small talk began to settle into a comfortable conversation. 

Halfway through their argument about which gyro shop was objectively the best, Cain pulled out a packet of cigarettes, offering one to Sing. He quickly declined the offer, replying with a small thanks, and waited for Cain to finish lighting his own cig. 

There was silence between them for a few seconds, just the sound of cars passing by above them, and Cain inhaling, then exhaling. The smell of nicotine made Sing’s nose itch, he tried to keep his face still despite how much he wanted to scrunch his nose. 

“Ah forget it, I’m not gonna bother arguing about gyros with you. No matter what you say, I know I’m right. Heh, I doubt you ate at almost every lil’ shop around New York like I have. You always stayin’ too close to home to get to anywhere with _proper_ gyros.” 

“I don’t need to try every gyro shop to know which is the best,” Sing puffed up his chest. “Your reasoning is flawed anyways, cuz the best kinda food is always gonna be the kind made by someone’s grandparents, y’know? It just ain’t the same from a store anyways.” 

“See? Now you’re just goin’ off topic cuz you don’t wanna admit I’m right.” Cain grinned, waving a finger towards Sing. “We’re calling’ this a tie, even though I am very obviously in the right.”

“In your dreams.” 

Cain just responded by laughing, then taking a drag on his cigarette. “So, how's stuff goin’ with your majesty down in Chinatown? Heard from some that you’ve been running around like a chicken with no head.” 

“Ah geez, we’re talking about work now?” Sing rubbed the back of his head, feeling himself shrink towards the concrete wall. “I mean… it’s fine, dandy, we’re making good progress tyin’ loose ends up. That tyrant of ours got an idea of establishing some trade companies, get _his_ business back in the game.” “Trading companies huh,” Cain whistled.”Damn, that seems outside your usual stuff. That’s all him or are you gonna start being a stuffy suit now too?” 

Sing groaned. “God don’t remind me, he’s gonna make me get a GED and everything so he can send me off to college. I’m gonna have to be a _business_ major, I don’t even know what they do but half the older guys just patted my back, and man— they aren’t the kinda guys who pray okay, and they went to Nadia’s lil dinky shrine in her restaurant and did a whole thing in my name.” 

Cain began to laugh hysterically as Sing waved his arms around frantically, as he spoke in a distressed tone. He bent over, holding his stomach and leaning away from Sing as the other continued his anguished ramble. 

“It’s not funny! When my guys start prayin’ shits fucked! I’m so screwed, even worse, Yut Lung’s pressuring me to get a GED in two years! I barely remember anything from 6th grade. I’ll start believing in a god if I can even pass a class in a year, forget getting my GED under two. I don’t think I can even get into any of those fancy ass colleges he keeps talking ‘bout.” The younger boy let out a defeated sigh. 

He began to realize how quiet it became after Cain stopped his boisterous laughter. Did he go too far? Was he oversharing now? Maybe he wasn’t as close as he assumed he was with Cain. After all the man was at least in his 20s while Sing was still just a teen. 

Cain took another drag, slower this time. When he exhaled, the smoke lingered. “Y’know Sing, take that chance. You got big money helping’ you back up, and you’ve got a possible career set for you thanks to your lil princess.” 

He turned to face Sing, his eyebrows knitted together and his expression was neutral. Was this guy being _serious_ with Sing? He honestly didn’t know how to feel. Honestly, if he still wasn’t taking the smoke into consideration his jaw would’ve hit the floor with this sudden shift in the atmosphere. 

“Even if you gotta take more than two years to finish school and get that GED of yours, work hard. Schools aren't a privilege lotta people have y’know, you and I know that. He’s gonna pay for whatever college you end up makin’ it too, ain’t he?” 

“Yeah…”

“Dude, congrats, that’s huge. Y’know, I’d kill to be able to finish school like you.” Cain gave Sing a light punch on the shoulder as he spoke. Sing flinched for a moment, before steeling himself and standing straight again.. “I never heard good things about business majors, but I got faith you won’t end up turning into a corporate drone or anything like that.” “If I ever do, I want you to be the man to put me out of my misery.” Sing dryly quipped. 

“I swear to god I’ll do it, you’re the only kid that ain’t got a stick up their ass these days. Can’t lose you to borin’ office work already” 

“Heh, I’m tellin’ Yut Lung that.” “Ay, don’t do that. I don’t want his goons on my ass, I was fuckin’ around c’mon!” “Yeah, might wanna make sure you don’t show your face in public for a couple years. The guy knows how to hold a grudge,” Sing cackled. 

“C’mon now, back on topic, might get sick if I think about your lil princess. Man, he freaks me out, gives me the chills y’know?” 

“He does that, easy to underestimate right?” Sing smiled smugly, it felt odd feeling proud of something that wasn’t even his own action. But being able to tell someone Yut Lung was perfectly capable of himself made him swell in pride. 

“It’s almost like you want me to feel sick right now,” Cain deadpanned. He put out his cigarette butt, flicking the finished end out towards the street. “But in full seriousness, you’re a bright kid Sing. Ya got a whole future ahead of you, take this chance. It’s a once in a lifetime offer. Not everyday some billionaire will sponsor you like this.” 

Sing shifted uncomfortably at Cain’s compliment. It didn’t sit right with him. He could pride himself on being strategic, even adaptable, but bright? That was something people didn’t use to describe him. Sing felt his cheeks heat up, nervousness made his throat feel like it was closing up. 

Oh, he was _flustered_ , to be complimented by someone he admired? It was almost overwhelming. 

“I...thanks man, but you’re not that much older than me too. You can do… so much y’know, you’ve got the personality, the spunk, and I mean you…” 

You’re practically on par with Ash Lynx, maybe more level headed than he was. 

Words he wanted to say, but couldn’t find himself spitting out. Cain just raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I don’t, wanna inflate my ego there?” 

“Now you’ve just ruined my momentum.” “Aw seriously? C’mon, you got it in you, tell me who’s the best lil man!” Cain cupped his ear, leaning towards Sing. He waggled his eyebrows, waiting for Sing’s reply. 

“Yeah, you’ve definitely ruined my momentum _and_ the cool mood.” Sing snorted. “But seriously? You’re a smart guy too, smarter than me that’s for sure. You’re one of the best around here, if I could, I’d probably let you switch places with me—” “Hell no, business ain’t my kinda gig.” 

“In general! What _would_ you wanna do then huh?” 

Cain answered quickly, “Law, always been something I had my eyes on. More like my family honestly, but I’ve begun to see the appeal. Criminal defense, an attorney obviously.” 

Sing straightened his shoulders, eyes widened at the reply. “Wow, you...actually got that thought through?” “Hah! Ain’t thought through enough, I just _know_ what I want, I don’t know jackshit about law past my own rights. But if I had the chance, I’d probably take it.” 

“ _While_ leading Black Sabbath?” 

“You’re leading your big gang and havin’ a hand in business now, if you’re gonna be able to do it, then so can I.” “But it’s law school, I said you were like a genius but that kinda juggling sounds like hell man.” 

“No shit, but shows to tell how dedicated I am to that dream. Plus, it’s not like me going to college is happening anytime soon. Gotta get a GED too, get accepted by a college, and even if I get a certificate and everything, who’s gonna hire a guy like me. My criminal record is _stacked_.” 

“Then you just gotta be the best kinda criminal defense lawyer out there, some of them are solo or whatever right? I can get Yut Lung to pay for you, he’d probably do it. I know you’d be good at this, plus we _know_ you. That makes you being’ with us even better.” 

“...I appreciate the support lil’ man, I really do. But y’know I can’t go workin’ for him. What’d my guys think? I don’t want to become an attorney for the money man, I want to help my brothers who get prosecuted when they’ve done nothin’ but be at the wrong place at the wrong time. The people who did the right thing and got villainized, the justice that won’t get served properly on trial.” Cain paused. “Too much?” 

He glanced at Sing, throwing an uneasy smile.

Sing shook his head, “No, no I get you, sorry… I didn’t mean it like that or anything I just...wish I could help ya out more. I mean, I could still always get Yut Lung to pay tuition stuff for ya….it’s probably nothing to him. If you ever need it, let me know, I’ll get a word in for you.” 

“Haha you better keep your word, I might just take you up on your offer in a few years.” Cain chuckled, pushing himself off the concrete wall. He walked towards his car, patting the top. “Well, it’s been a good talk Sing, sun’s going down. Don’t want to be taking all your daytime now.” 

“It’s fine, I really like talking to you more. We don’t do it enough…” Sing walked away from the wall, going over to Cain for a hi five and fist bump right afterwards. “See you soon then yeah? You better call me up in a few years to tell me you’ve decided to finally chase that dream of yours.”

“You’re the boss, lil man.” 

Cain got into his car, driving away first, and leaving Sing in the dust. 

The younger boy couldn’t help but smile, a big dopey grin on his face. He couldn’t help but feel lightheaded after the conversation. 

It left him ecstatic. 

* * *

Sing returned to the Lee manor in the early evening, heading straight to Yut Lung’s room to find the older boy. When he entered, he was greeted by Yut Lung sitting in the corner, hunched over and hands together. There was a certain feeling of animosity in the air, Sing braced himself for any kind of news.

“Lee Hua Lung just died this afternoon.” 

Yut Lung stared at Sing, waiting for something, anything. Sing didn’t know what to say, just looked down with his fists clenched. Suddenly, the joy he previously felt when he was racing with Cain just minutes ago didn’t feel right. 

“It wasn’t you, was it?” 

“No, it wasn’t. You could ask all the servants I was home the whole day working until I got the call. It was an assassination, or assumed to be one based on how he was shot. I won’t deny that I’m...happy about the news though.” Yut Lung turned away to face the window, the reflection of his smile wasn’t lost to Sing. “However, I doubt my other brothers will be happy about having to hold another funeral though.” 

“Are they coming to America for the guy?” 

“I think they’d all rather die than set foot here, the body will be sent back to Hong Kong.” 

“And we don’t gotta go to the funeral.” 

Yut Lung nodded. 

“Oh thank god.” Sing let out a sigh of relief. “I only ever met Hua Lung but I _don’t_ want to meet the others, one was enough for me.” Then, something clicked in Sing’s head, a question he should’ve asked if it weren’t for the fact he never paid much attention to the Lees as much as Shorter did. He only remembered that they were the most powerful around China, and nobody in Chinatown with their head screwed on right messed with the Lee syndicate people. 

“Hey. Just outta curiosity, but you’re the youngest Lee brother right? The two I knew were ancient compared to ya.” 

“That’s right, what about it?” “Then if ya got more brothers back in China or whatever, why are _you_ in charge now? I’d think they want this kinda power even more than you do.” 

Yut Lung snorted, “ You aren’t wrong about that, but do remember I didn’t inject banana fish into Hua Lung just out of petty revenge, there’s reasons for my actions Sing. After my eldest brother died, everything went over to the second eldest, and if I have the second eldest in my control… you follow don’t you?” Sing got the gist of it. Even if his other brothers wanted the power Yut Lung held, they wouldn’t be able to. Not if Hua Lung legally passed on everything he inherited from Wang Lung to their youngest brother. 

“With Hua Lung dead, I don’t really have anything stopping them from killing me now though.” 

Yut Lung sighed, as if possible death was just a small inconvenience for him. Maybe it really was to him. Sing couldn’t even count how many times he’s either witnessed or heard about the youngest Lee brother almost getting killed on one hand. Whether or not it was normal for Yut Lung, Sing couldn’t let him die that easily. “Then what the hell are you just sitting around here for!? You didn’t even care about that bastard, so I know you aren’t grieving. Get some more bodyguards or something cuz I sure as hell can’t drop everything now to make sure you don’t get killed in the middle of the night!” 

“Tsk, you’re overreacting, you talk like I didn’t have something planned already. You think I’d tell you this kind of news without having taken action already? I’m not as helpless as you’d like to think.” 

“Well you sure know how to act like you are! Geez, you shoulda just said that first then.” 

“If you’d actually let me finish talking— “

“Just stop having dramatic pauses whenever we have a serious discussion! That’s even easier!”

Yut Lung looked back at Sing just to roll his eyes, he shifted his position in the chair to completely face Sing. “I already hired someone to take care of the rest of my brothers. I still have many enemies, and I’m sure the sudden death of four brothers from the Lee family will garner a lot of unwanted attention. But it does save me from the trouble of getting murdered by one of their goons. Even with an interval between each death, people will probably start suspecting me of having a hand in it. So I want you to stay careful as well, seeing how you’re my companion in all of this now.” 

Sing could feel a headache coming on. He knows he signed up for this, and the possibility of getting roped up in this sort of wild situation that he never had to worry about beforehand. But this was not how he imagined it would go down, being entangled in a fratricide. 

“Alright, just I’ll be more careful, It’s not like they’ll track me down easily, I’m still movin’ around all the time. Don’t worry ‘bout me, make sure you can save your own skin. Your assassin might be workin’ hard killing your brothers, but they still got time to hire a hitman and kill you still.” 

“I know...like I said, I have everything covered. Tch, I can’t worry about your safety Soo Ling? I doubt you’ve ever had to prepare yourself for being assassinated, so I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get shot from behind out of nowhere.” Yut Lung huffed. “You know I didn’t have to tell you any of this at all since it’s mostly my own burden to bear…” 

“I’m always prepared to die. It’s as inevitable as you constantly bein’ in danger of getting assassinated. Walk on the wrong street, mess with the wrong people—” Sing pointed a finger gun at Yut Lung, “—and bang. I appreciate the concern man, I do, but ya don’t gotta stress over it. You got my back yeah? And I got yours. Like you said, we’re companions, partners whatever you wanna call it. Your mess is my mess now, even if I don’t want it to be.”

He tried to lighten the mood in the room, bringing back a semblance of relaxation. Stress and paranoia were never a good combo for Yut Lung, not for anybody if he was being honest. Yut Lung seemed to buy into Sing’s attempt of lightheartedness despite the topic at hand and just laughed at the response.

“Of course... I do have your back. For the time being, you can stay here if you want. Until it’s all over. Chinatown can live without you running amok for a month or two, you’ve done enough to at least clean up other groups trying to make a move on our area at least.”

Sing grimaced. He wanted to finish everything at once. To take a break felt like giving people an opportunity to completely tear down what he’s worked towards. At this point, the Arabs stopped trying to make a move on Chinatown. Sing made his point that Chinatown wasn’t a place anyone could just take over while he was still in charge. 

He’s already established to the other small Chinatown gangs there wasn't a power vacuum for them to swoop in and try to replace what Shorter worked so hard to build up. Despite all that, the Vietnamese were still a problem for Sing. Their leader said they would back down and wouldn’t get involved with Chinatown’s gangs, but Sing _still_ kept getting news about them starting shit at the edge of town. 

They weren’t messing with Sing’s boys anymore, but the fact they were still going after the other Chinatown gangs had sent Sing on a goose chase all around town to chase them off. It was still an ongoing issue, there was no way he’d be able to stay in the Lee manor most of the time.

Sing’s head began to spin as he tried to take into account everything. He confidently said he was prepared to die but he was beginning to feel doubtful there would be anyone he could count on to step into his place to finish his job if he did. Who would make sure Yut Lung continued to do his work as he promised? What would happen to all his efforts if it was left half done? 

“You don’t have to agree, Sing, I’m only warning you. Stay in a group, don’t run off on your own, surround yourself with my men if you have to, they’re always yours to use as well. I know you have a lot more work to do. I’m not… going to force you to do anything.,” Yut Lung reassured him. 

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Sing swallowed, letting the anxiety wash over him until it faded. “Thanks, uh I just wanted to give you these before I went home, I’ll probably see you soon.” 

Setting down the papers on the counter, Sing left without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last edit 1/12/21  
> -fixed formatting error
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEARS, it's long endnote part 3 electric boogaloo: first things first I'm taking a small hiatus because I have a lot of art-related projects I have an obligation to finish and now that I have a proper outline of what I want to be written and how far I want to go, I want this fic to end in 3-4 chapters, stopping at the very start of GOL. I hope to finish this fic before the end of the year at least haha, I really hope I can, it'd become the first multi-chapter I've ever finished! Plus by the end, I want to share the doc I've been using to fact-check myself... I'm a little proud of it.
> 
> I'd also like to thank @falconofthefall for beta reading this chapter, gave me a bunch of pointers I'll try to apply to in future chapters... couldn't have finished this without her <3 
> 
> Now thoughts, I've started to put down comments on things I wanted to discuss so I wouldn't forget!  
> > I do NOT remember why I wrote the second scene, it was originally what the chapter started off as and I think I was trying to execute a certain scene I've been dying to write but it didn't fit...but I liked it for its vibe, this weird wistful, comforting distance that these two shared so I couldn't bear to delete it  
> > In November 2020 I felt crazy enough to go pick out an exact date for Sing and Yut Lung + decide their zodiac sign for funsies (and match it up with their Chinese zodiac and everything) but I kinda got frazzled n decided to stick with Sing being a summer baby while Yut Lung is a fall baby  
> > I have Yut Lung call Sing, "Soo Ling", from time to time to show some intimacy. Usually, you refer to a Chinese person with their full name since it's just common courtesy (something Sing hasn't been doing at all lol, right off the bat he refers to Yut Lung by only his name, no surname attached) so now it's...mutual now  
> > Idk if Sing's mom is actually dead or not but...I kind of assumed so just on gut feeling;;  
> > CAIN AND SING FRIENDSHIP FINAAAAALLY I had so much trouble writing Cain's dialogue. I know I wanted it to feel similar to Ash but more laid back. I heard he speaks similarly to Ash in his Japanese dialogue...and I thought that was a super cool detail I wanted to try and implement.  
> > Maybe Ill share my drafts with my full comments on them after all of this too haha! I had a lot to say about Nadia's section, especially because I finished this one so quickly. It just felt right writing a character who...always been in the caretaker role. Nadia's kind of free real estate when it comes to characterization so I used my mom and friends who've had to be the parent to their siblings as a reference when writing her. I feel like she'd be a source of discomfort *and* comfort for Sing  
> > THE LAST SCENE WAS A OUT OF THE BLUE THING I ACCIDENTLY WENT FAR WITH, I planned on ending the chapter at "hua lung has died" but then I realized what I could do with this setup...and answer some things I've wanted to be answered too
> 
> ps. I might have to eat my words from ch 1 endnote, while I try to make a lot of mentions of Sing's gang activities during downtime, I don't think I have the balls to actually write him in action because I wouldn't know anything I'm talking about...and my outline ended up being 100% mundane everyday things because I got really invested in the simple things between big events  
> pss. I don't write chapters by how many word counts I can get in, I just plan where I want things to end and then keep writing until I get there... this chapter is like a little over double what I usually have written! I'm kinda impressed with myself. I haven't written this much so quickly since 2018 haha!


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